


Bound

by NameForsaken



Series: Boy or Beast? [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coming Out, Dysphoria, F/M, FtM Transgender, Gen, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, binding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:20:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23710675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NameForsaken/pseuds/NameForsaken
Summary: Marianne collapses during the Remire Calamity and Hilda is concerned for her well-being. After Marianne puts her life in danger, she is forced to come to terms with her identity; Manuela has a gift for Marianne that she believes will help. Marianne makes a difficult decision.Sequel to the one-shot "Handsome". More to come!
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Marianne von Edmund, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Series: Boy or Beast? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707679
Comments: 11
Kudos: 23





	1. Part 1: Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Marianne is coded as FTM transgender in this story and has not fully come to terms with "her" identity. Any usage of "she/her" pronouns and Marianne's given name in this work are a projection of Marianne's current denial and the unawareness of her classmates.

_Everything was hazy._

_The battlefield spun around her as the sounds of clashing metal began to fade away, her breath catching as she grasped desperately for any solid form to hold. Even the pain in her ribcage was starting to numb, her knees buckling underneath her as she collapsed. A flash of pink dashed into sight just as her vision started to slip away, her whole world going black…_

* * *

“Marianne!”

Hilda was at her side in an instant, barely managing to break her fall. The infected villager Marianne had just dodged was advancing quickly, but no matter how many times Hilda shook the blue-haired beauty, she just wouldn’t come to. She didn’t have time to inspect Marianne’s wounds as the villager loomed just a few feet away, lifting his arms to strike. Hilda laid her friend down gently before raising her axe, steeling herself as she lunged forward. 

“That’s enough!” she shouted, slicing his abdomen. The villager staggered back, letting out a sickly groan. Even as blood began to pour from the wound, he advanced again, leaving Hilda with no other choice. She swallowed back the burning bile that built in the back of her throat, reminding herself this was for her friend’s safety — for the safety of the entire village. 

She swung again, closing her eyes just as her axe made contact with the rampaging villager, tearing cleanly through the center of his neck. She heard two distinct _thumps_ as the villager’s body fell to the ground, right beside the decapitated head. Tears welled in her eyes as Hilda turned away, the death toll never getting any easier. She had only been with the Blue Lions for a little over two weeks, and already the Professor had sent her into several gruesome, unrelenting battles. Had she known she would have been forced to do the unthinkable when she decided to follow Marianne to the Blue Lions, she would have strongly reconsidered. Oh, how she missed her days of slacking…

“Is… is he gone?”

Hilda opened her eyes at last, following the direction of a weak, timid voice. A young villager poked his head out from behind a nearby wall, terror in his eyes as he stared at the bloodbath before him. She nodded, trying her best to smile in spite of the agonizing guilt that was eating away inside of her. “You’re safe… Now go, get out of here!”

The villager did not so much as hesitate as he fled from his hiding spot toward the nearest clear exit. When she was finally alone again, Hilda let out a deep, hollow sigh, and dropped to her knees beside her unconscious friend. 

“Marianne? Come on, now’s not the time to sleep…” 

She scooped the armor-clad girl into her arms, silently wondering to herself why Marianne had even decided to become a mercenary. Just three weeks ago, her friend was still hiding amongst the shadows of the monastery, keeping to herself, and barely so much as looking at a physical weapon. But ever since they’d both joined the Blue Lions, Hilda had noticed a different side to Marianne, one that appeared eager to always throw herself into battle and fight at the front lines. It was admirable, for sure, but Hilda could not help but fear that Marianne was getting a little too far in over her head. It was why she had chosen to switch houses alongside her in the first place. 

The enemies were dwindling, now. Hilda could hardly see past the ash and rubble around her, but the sounds of fighting were becoming few and far between. She knew she needed to get Marianne to safety, but even as strong as she was, she did not have the energy to carry her all the way back to the monastery. She lifted Marianne onto her back and moved forward, beginning to search for any of her comrades. 

“Hello?” she called out, following the drifting sounds of battle. Somewhere toward the front of the village a horse neighed, and one of their accompanied knights let out a loud cry. _Definitely not that way,_ she thought to herself as she turned back the way she’d just come. 

“Hilda!” The voice came from the western edge of the village, urgent and concerned. Dimitri emerged from a thick wall of smoke, coughing as he stopped to catch his breath. He glanced up at her, his eyes wide with shock as he spotted Marianne. “What happened?! Are you alright?”

Upon seeing a familiar face, Hilda’s heart nearly collapsed. She blinked away the remainder of her tears, hoping Dimitri didn’t notice as he approached her. “I’m fine… But Marianne, she—” 

“Is she..?” he started, an unusual crack in his voice. His shoulders tensed as he lifted a hand to the unconscious girl on Hilda’s back. 

“No, _no_ ,” she assured him with a breath of relief, actually allowing herself to smile. _At least_ she could say for absolute sure that Marianne was still alive. But there was no telling to what extent her current injuries had affected her. “She had quite the fall, and I think she may have hit her head. She hasn’t so much as stirred since I found her.” 

Dimitri nodded, his lips setting into a hard, serious line. He moved beside Hilda, shifting half of Marianne’s weight onto his own back. “We need to get her back to Professor Maneula.”

He started to move back in the opposite direction, Hilda moving with him to keep Marianne’s body stable. “Isn’t the exit the other way?” she asked him. 

“Flayn is just up ahead. We can have her fly Marianne back by pegasus.”

Hilda frowned, not particularly fond of the idea of leaving her friend, but she knew Flayn was their best and quickest chance of returning Marianne safely to the monastery. She continued on at Dimitri’s side, occasionally glancing back at their unconscious housemate in case she started to wake. Her breathing was heavily labored, and even through the armor, Marianne’s chest seemed to feel unusually deformed. _Hang in there, Mari…_

When the smoke finally cleared and they reached the western edge, they found Flayn flying above the ruins, searching for wounded villagers. Mercedes, who had been using magic to heal the injured, immediately took notice of the trio, and rushed over with a large, splintered plank, laying it at their feet. “Oh my! Set her down, let her rest.”

Dimitri removed Marianne from Hilda’s back, lowering her gently to the plank. “Thank you, Mercedes.” He turned his gaze up toward the sky, seeming to gauge the distance between them and Flayn. “I will be back,” he asserted before running off in the pegasus knight’s direction. 

“Are you alright, Hilda?” Mercedes asked as soon as Dimitri was out of earshot. Hilda hadn’t been with the Blue Lions for very long, but she had easily found a kinship with the kind, softhearted Mercedes. She was also a wonderful singer, and Hilda quite enjoyed attending choir practice with her and Annette every weekend. But right now, in the middle of a destroyed village, dead and injured civilians and soldiers scattered throughout the ruins, Hilda felt more alone and distraught than she had since leaving the Golden Deer. 

She knelt down at Marianne’s side, reaching for her friend’s hand. “I’ll be okay as long as she pulls through,” she whispered to Mercedes, a somber smile just barely meeting her lips. 

Hilda couldn’t explain exactly what it was that had drawn her so much to Marianne. But ever since the first day they’d met at Garreg Mach, since she’d first seen the meek and downcast girl huddled in the back of the classroom, Hilda had made it her mission to become her friend. She had never met a more clumsy and disorganized individual, and although those types of people usually gave her immediate pause, there was something about Marianne’s genuine, almost frail demeanor that Hilda found quite charming. 

So when Marianne announced a few weeks earlier that she wanted to join the Blue Lions, Hilda was admittedly a little heartbroken, if not slightly taken aback. She had wondered if one of their housemates had said or done something wrong, if she herself had scared the timid girl away. Claude had done everything in his power to make everyone feel like they belonged in the Golden Deer, although sometimes his tactics lacked sensitivity. But Marianne had assured them all that she appreciated and admired their kindness, and that she looked forward to still attending classes with them. She simply wanted a different change of pace, and she believed that the new Professor would provide her with what she desired. 

Now, there she was, lying unconscious on a makeshift stretcher surrounded by the dead and broken. Hilda couldn’t help but feel like they had both taken the wrong path, that none of this would have happened had they just remained with the Golden Deer. Why, _why_ , of all classes, would Marianne have chosen to become a mercenary? She had never expressed interest in fighting before, had been quite passive to battle up until she’d started spending time with Dimitri outside of class. Had she joined the Blue Lions because she was smitten? Had he been the one to put her up to it?

She shook her head. No, Dimitri seemed just as surprised when the two of them had shown up to the Blue Lions homeroom that first morning. He had been closely watching Marianne ever since, seeming just as concerned as Hilda about her sudden, almost reckless decisions. If Dimitri had any influence on her behavior, he certainly was oblivious, and Hilda couldn’t help but admire him for it. There truly was nothing the boy wouldn’t do for his fellow classmates, Blue Lion or otherwise. 

Mercedes kept Marianne’s breathing stable with a healing spell as they awaited Dimitri’s return. “She’ll be just fine,” she assured Hilda in that sugary sweet voice of hers. It was absolutely amazing how calm the woman could be in such a disaster, even as the Professor, the rest of the Blue Lions, and the Knights of Seiros fought an unknown force several streets ahead. So many lifeless bodies, so many injured, so many ruins scattered all around them, the once peaceful Remire Village now reduced to nothing but rubble and ash. 

“I’m here!” a voice called from above before Hilda could allow her thoughts to lead her too deep into a place of despair. Flayn swooped down and landed her pegasus, walking it over to the three girls. Dimitri appeared a moment later, once again out of breath. 

In just a few minutes, all four of them managed to secure Marianne to the back of the pegasus, and Flayn took her place, gently leading the winged horse away from the village. Hilda watched as she flew away, finally releasing a heavy sigh. 

“We should clean up and find the others,” Dimitri instructed Hilda and Mercedes. “It sounds like the battle has almost ceased.”

And so Hilda did just that, following her new comrades further into the village, Marianne’s condition never leaving her mind. 


	2. Part 2: Denial

By the time the Blue Lions finally returned to the monastery, the sun had already almost disappeared beyond the horizon, the moon beginning to rise in its place. Every last student was beaten down and exhausted, spirits low as they dwelled on their enemies’ escape and Tomas’s betrayal. Even Mercedes seemed to be lost in thought, muttering something to herself about the reappearance of the Death Knight. 

Hilda had little time to sort her feelings, however, as she immediately made her way to the infirmary. Wounded soldiers and Remire refugees sat along the walls leading to the infirmary, the monastery monks working overtime to tend to their injuries. When Hilda tried to peek inside the main room, she was stopped by Captain Jeralt, who told her no students were to step inside unless severely sick or hurt. 

“I’ll only be a minute,” she insisted, standing on her toes to try to look over his shoulders. From what she could see, every bed was full, but not a single one was occupied by Marianne. 

Jeralt stepped forward, further blocking her path. “Your classmate has already been tended to and returned to her dormitory.”

Hilda’s eyes widened, a small smile forming at the corners of her lips. “So she’s alright? Not that I was worried… I knew she’d be fine.”

He let out a light chuckle. “You should go get some rest yourself, kid. You worked hard today.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Hilda turned away from the infirmary, relief washing over her as she started back toward the student dormitories. If Marianne had already been dismissed, that meant that she had to be fine, right?

When she reached the dormitory building, she took the steps two at a time, ignoring the burning in her calves as she hurried toward Marianne’s room. She stopped at the door, ready to knock when she heard the sounds of muffled voices coming from inside. She lowered her hand, her brows furrowing as she pressed her ear to the door. 

“Is this about the uniform again?” a voice asked in a low, gentle tone. Hilda recognized it instantly as Dimitri’s. She almost doubled back in surprise, Dimitri the last person she expected Marianne to invite into her personal space. How had he made it to the dormitories so quickly, anyway? Hadn’t he had business with the Professor?

“I… I don’t want to talk about it,” a second voice, more timid and guilt-ridden than the first, responded. There was no doubt it belonged to Marianne.

Hilda’s breath hitched at the sound of her friend’s voice. She hadn’t realized how much she had longed to hear it, to know for certain that she would be okay. But now that Marianne was awake and speaking again, Hilda couldn’t help but long to be in Dimitri’s place, to be the one that Marianne was speaking to… What was this about a uniform?

“Marianne, you really hurt yourself,” Dimitri continued, his tone becoming increasingly more concerned. “You had Hilda so worried, too… Please just help me understand why you did it.”

She let out a small whimper that sent a pang of remorse through Hilda’s chest. Clearly, Marianne was struggling with something far beyond her injury. “You wouldn’t understand…”

“Perhaps I won’t. But that doesn’t mean I won’t still listen.”

_ Goddess, why does he have to be so good at that? _ Hilda narrowed her eyes, fighting against the strange emotions that had begun to swell inside of her. She let out a quiet breath, focusing on their conversation once more. 

“Dimitri, I… I just don’t know how long I can keep doing this…”

_ Keep doing  _ what? They weren’t… sneaking around together at night, were they? Hilda shook her head. There was no way that was the case. Marianne may have had her secrets, but she was far from the sneaky type. As far as Hilda was concerned, Marianne wasn’t exactly the romantic type, either, having just lamented to her a few weeks earlier about the margrave’s desires to marry her off. Marianne had had no such interests back then, and it was unlikely she had changed her mind in such little time. 

“What do you mean?”

Marianne sighed. “I… I really think I should get some rest. Please, Dimitri, don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Right. Forgive me…” He cleared his throat. “I won’t tell anyone so long as you wish it. But please, Marianne, consider telling Hilda. She is deeply worried about you, even if she doesn’t show it.”

“I know… I will consider it. Good night, Dimitri.”

“Good night, Marianne.”

Hilda backed away from the door as the sound of footsteps headed toward her, still trying to process their exchange as she attempted to make herself appear unsuspicious. She started toward her own room just next door, having managed to reach for the lock just as Dimitri stepped into the hall. 

“Oh. Hilda. I didn’t realize you were still up.”

“Just turning in,” she chirped with feigned enthusiasm. She glanced between Dimitri and Marianne’s closed door. “Did you just go to see Marianne? How is she?”

His bright eyes cast downward, his expression falling as he seemed to try to come up with a suitable response. “She will be fine. Her injuries are none too serious, just a few bruised ribs. They should heal in a few weeks with proper care.”

Hilda furrowed her brows. “But she’s awake? Did she say what happened?”

Dimitri swallowed visibly, clearly having trouble keeping up his facade. He hadn’t known that Hilda had heard their conversation, or at least a part of it. But he kept his promise nonetheless, proving once more his outstanding loyalty. He truly was a good man. “I believe that is something you should ask her yourself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to retire to my quarters.”

“Of course.” Hilda watched as he passed by her down the hall, his shoulders slumping uncharacteristically as he walked. There was definitely something else going on between him and Marianne, but Hilda just couldn’t make sense of it. 

She entered her room and flung herself down onto her bed, still dressed in her battle gear as she turned to face the wall separating her room from Marianne’s. She wondered what her friend was thinking about, how she was feeling. Dimitri’s words rang in her ears, bounced around her head.  _ Marianne, you really hurt yourself. _

Had Marianne’s collapse on the field been a result of her own doing? How was it even possible to bruise her own ribcage, to intentionally restrict her own breathing? And why would Marianne even do something so drastic in the first place? 

_ Please just help me understand why you did it. _

Hilda wanted to reach out through the wall, to comfort her friend, to learn about the demons that plagued her. Marianne had been struggling since her first day at the academy, and Hilda had only wanted to make her feel comfortable, to feel safe. But she wasn’t sure how she could do that if she didn’t even know what it was that Marianne was so afraid of. Why did she flinch whenever someone so much as spoke her name? Why, whenever she made a clumsy mistake, did she act like the world was about to come to an end? Why did she always seem to hurt so much, always seem to hide, when all anyone at Garreg Mach wanted was to make her feel like she belonged?

It was no use dwelling on it right now. Now, she seriously needed to sleep. Her bones were so sore, her muscles aching from the grueling battle at Remire Village. Why had Tomas betrayed them all, and just what had he done to the villagers to make them act so completely out of their minds? She hoped the Professor and the Knights of Seiros would get to the bottom of this soon… The last thing she wanted was to be thrown into another battle, forced to take another life. 

_ Rest in peace _ , she thought about the villagers who lost their lives in the calamity, the face of the one she’d killed appearing in her mind as she closed her eyes. When would all of this start to get easier? So many questions, so few answers. Oh, how Hilda wished she was back at home, sleeping comfortably in her own bed. How she wished each of those villagers had a home to return to, had some kind of reassurance that tomorrow would be better. 

She let out a sigh. Would she ever get used to living like this? Only time would tell. But for now, she would have to hold onto any silver lining she could, take it one day at a time. She was going to be okay. One way or another, she would  _ always _ be okay.


	3. Part 3: Consequences

Marianne had hardly slept that night. She found it difficult to find a comfortable position to lay without her ribs absolutely screaming in pain and her breath catching in her throat. Even when she did finally settle for sleeping on her back, pillows pressed gently against either of her sides, her mind was much too frantic to allow her to drift peacefully. 

She couldn’t believe how stupid she had been. In truth, she still didn’t quite understand why she had decided to bind her chest in the first place. But every time she thought about it, tried to find an answer, her mind brought her back to that day about a month ago when Dimitri had called her “handsome”. 

There wasn’t even anything particularly magnificent about the word. Marianne had heard men being called “handsome” all her life, and not once had she paid any attention to the meaning. But for some reason, hearing it from Dimitri, and while wearing his uniform, she felt like she was truly being seen for the very first time. When she had had to give him back his uniform, she was admittedly quite devastated. Putting on her own clothes just hadn’t felt the same ever since. 

It was just a pair of clothes. She had told herself that so many times in the past several weeks, but no matter how many times she repeated those words, she couldn’t help but feel like they were untrue. She felt restricted in her regular uniform,  _ exposed _ , and the more she dwelled on it, the more she found she was really starting to hate the parts of her body that her uniform always seemed to put on display. 

When Marianne requested to join the Blue Lions, she thought things would be different. She thought that being around Dimitri, the only person in the entire monastery who seemed to care enough to even try to understand, would help quell some of her physical anxieties and give her the peace of mind she so desperately sought. But somehow, despite being welcomed by her new housemates with open arms, she still felt isolated, still felt restrained, still felt  _ wrong _ . 

And this time, she couldn’t blame it on her Crest. As much trouble her Crest had caused her throughout her lifetime, Marianne knew that whatever was happening to her was beyond her bloodline, beyond the rumors of the beast that dwelled inside of her. This time, she couldn’t use the excuse of her inherent bad luck to explain away what she was feeling. Now, she was more afraid than ever, more certain that if she were to be true to herself, her life would be one no longer worth living.

She had just barely managed to sleep two hours when she was awoken the next morning to the sound of a knock on her door. As soon as she opened her eyes and allowed herself to process her surroundings, all of the pain in her upper torso returned, reminding her almost immediately of her stupidity the day before. She was slow to move, shifting carefully as she nudged aside her pillows and pushed herself up to her feet. 

“Hello?” she answered tiredly, cradling her sides as she trudged to the door. 

“Maria—um, it’s Professor Maneula.” She cleared her throat, her voice thinner than usual, as though worn from overexertion. “May I speak with you a moment?”

Marianne furrowed her eyebrows. She had thought she’d already heard the end of Manuela’s lecture last night. Still, it would do her no good to ignore her superior. She opened the door, meeting the exhausted, yet somehow still lively expression of the songstress. 

“How are you feeling?” Manuela asked with genuine concern. “May I come in?”

She nodded, gesturing for the woman to enter. “I’m alright,” she lied, straightening her back to mask her discomfort. She offered Manuela a chair, pulling it up to her bed. “Am I in trouble?”

Manuela let out a lighthearted laugh. “Oh, heavens no.” She took a seat, smiling gently to reassure Marianne that this was a friendly visit. “Listen, I know was… a bit harsh on you, but I want you to know that I sympathize with what you’re going through, and I’d like to help.”

“I-I’m not sure what you mean.” Marianne sat back on her bed, wincing as she fluffed the pillows around her once more. 

“Right, I’m sure this is a very confusing time for you.” Manuela unfolded a piece of cloth that Marianne hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She set it neatly on her lap, smoothing her fingers over the fabric. “I made this for you… So you won’t have to use bandages on the days where the weight of your chest may feel a bit too heavy to bear.”

Marianne blinked, her eyes moving to the piece of cloth. Now that she was looking more carefully, it appeared to be a sleeveless tunic of some sort. Her stomach clenched as she registered the meaning behind the gift. She sucked in a deep breath—or, as deep as she could in her current condition—and raised her gaze to meet Manuela’s. “H-how did you know?”

Manuela hummed softly. “Why else would you bind yourself so tightly?” She held up the tunic, turning it around to show a large piece of heavy duty cotton elastic sewn to the back. “Now, see here. The front is sturdy for compression, and the back expands for easy removal and breathability.”

It took Marianne a moment to process Manuela’s instructions. As she stared at the small top, she wondered if such a piece of clothing was too good to be true. Was it even  _ okay _ to wear something like this, to so easily conceal that part of her goddess-given body? Her chest had caused her so much distress over the past several weeks, had made her despise so much of her appearance that she had spent night after night praying to the goddess just to bless her with a different form. But now that Manuela had presented her with the opportunity to actually  _ have _ that form, Marianne realized she would have to accept the truth she’d been desperately trying to fight — that the form she truly desired was  _ not  _ just that of a flat-chested girl, but that of a handsome young man. 

“One more thing,” Manuela continued, finally handing the top over to Marianne. “You  _ must _ wait until you’re fully healed before binding again. I do not wish to see you back in the infirmary with such careless injuries.”

Marianne nodded, still unable to meet the older woman’s gaze. As she clutched to the top, the fabric cool and soft in her palms, she couldn’t hold back the tears that had begun to well in her eyes. Confusion and shame clouded her emotions, her mind racing much too fast. All she could imagine was her adoptive father, looking down on her in disapproval and disgust. This side of her… it was  _ much _ worse than the beast in her blood, than the curse of her Crest. Her heart had betrayed her, had betrayed the margrave, had betrayed the  _ goddess _ . She was an abomination. 

Manuela, seeming to sense her affliction, leaned forward and gently rested a hand over Marianne’s. “Oh dear, what’s the matter?”

She tried to draw in a breath but it caught in her lungs as a sob racked through her body, causing her to double over in pain. She heaved sharply, her fists clenching underneath Manuela’s touch. “What’s… wrong… with me?” she choked out between sobs. 

“Absolutely nothing is wrong with you,” Manuela assured her, moving over to the bed. She reached around Marianne’s shoulders and pulled her into a loose, tender embrace. “I can’t pretend that I understand what you’re going through, but I can promise that you are not the first child to feel disconnected from the body they were born with.”

Marianne buried her face in Manuela’s shoulder, unable to control the emotions that poured out of her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been held in such a way, or if she ever had at all. The margrave had been nothing but kind to her since he’d taken her in, but he was far from an affectionate man, and Marianne’s parents before him certainly had not been the warmest of people. In a way, lying there in Manuela’s arms, allowing herself to be comforted, she supposed this was what it must’ve felt like to have a loving mother figure. And although it scared her to be so vulnerable and open, at least she now knew she had one person who had seen the real her and not immediately felt repulsed. 

When Marianne had finally started to calm down, Manuela pulled away, offering her a bittersweet smile. “I’m sorry to have to do this, dear, but I must return to the infirmary.”

She sniffled, straightening herself back up. “Of course. I’m sorry for taking your time.”

“Now don’t you apologize,” Manuela told her. “You just take care of yourself and get some rest.” She reached over for the piece of clothing she’d made, extending it to Marianne once more. “Please use this as often as you need. But allow yourself to heal first, alright?”

“I…” Marianne lifted her gaze to meet Manuela’s serious eyes. She swallowed, taking the top. “Thank you, Professor…”

Manuela stood from the bed. “If you find yourself struggling with these feelings again, please feel free to come talk to me. I may not be as handsome as that house leader of yours, but I assure you I am much wiser.”

Marianne’s face reddened, but she didn’t bother to correct Manuela. It was true that she admired Dimitri, even desired to be around him, but her feelings toward him were far from romantic. In a way, Marianne supposed Dimitri was the kind of man that she wanted to be: strong, confident, and most certainly handsome, but more than anything, he was honest. She had spent much too long lying to herself and those around her, much too long hiding from the child inside of her begging to be freed.

She watched Manuela leave the room, her heels echoing down the hall as she disappeared. Although Marianne still wasn’t quite sure how to reconcile with her newfound identity, the burden didn’t seem to feel so heavy. She got up and set the top inside her wardrobe, tucked away underneath the dress the margrave had sent her for her birthday. She was certainly likely to get more use out of the top than the dress — as beautiful as it was, she just couldn’t bear the idea of being trapped inside another piece of stuffy clothing that was only meant to show off her status as nobility. All Marianne wanted was to be seen as herself, to blend in with the rest of the crowd. Titles meant nothing to her if it meant she was being dishonest with those who mattered most. 

Today, she decided, she would no longer let the world pass her by while she stood still. She would quit feeling sorry for herself, quit putting herself in harm’s way for the sake of a little temporary comfort. Today, even if it scared her, even if it hurt, she would tell her friends the truth—well, not the  _ whole _ truth; she was still sworn to secrecy about her Crest. But this side of her, the part that so desperately wanted to change her body, to be seen as someone else… she thought it was time her friends deserved to know. 

_ After just a few more hours of rest, _ she told herself with a firm nod. She climbed back into bed, prayed to the goddess for guidance, and hoped that when she awoke, she would not lose her nerve. Dimitri and Hilda had been nothing but absolutely patient with her since she first arrived at Garreg Mach. So far, they had proven more than capable of handling her at her worst. So maybe, just maybe, they would see the real Marianne inside… and maybe, they would be able to accept  _ him _ , too. 


End file.
